


I Knew You Did

by e_katara



Series: Secret Agent AU [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Other, more tags and characters to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_katara/pseuds/e_katara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tie in one shots to Don't You, Though?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiny Wingwoman Clarke Griffin

**Author's Note:**

> i have to explore these things and i may not have the opportunity to do so in the main story, so

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into just how smooth Clarke was when it came to getting Wick kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first of a few glimpses into clarke and wick's years raising hell in the country club

They were walking around the fountain together, her gripping his hand tightly, swinging their arms back and forward.

"Sorry you got dragged into babysitting me."

Usually, when she spoke, her voice was loud, excited, vibrant. Now, it was small and apologetic.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're a big kid. I'm five. My mom made you watch me when she was busy. You got stuck. Sorry."

She wasn't looking at him, still staring forward and swinging their joined arms, but he could hear how much she meant it.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Clarke. I like hanging out with you."

She stopped then, turned to look up at him. Her eyes were big and blue and her mouth was open.

"Really?"

"Heck yeah. You're a cool kid. Nice. People around here aren't very nice to me most of the time."

He thought back to that first time he'd noticed her, when she rigged a table full of food to fall on top of the guy who'd yelled at him. She knew how people around here treated him.

"Sorry about that, too."

He shrugged. "It's not your fault."

"I know, but it's still bad. You're nice, Kyle. People shouldn't be mean to you."

"Thanks," he smiled. She was an adorable kid. "But I told you everyone calls me Wick."

Her lip was stuck out in an exaggerated pout. "I like Kyle better."

"Fine, then. You can call me Kyle."

Her whole face lit up, and she started walking again. He followed her, smiling gently, thinking that it was some stroke of luck that he'd happened to be in the room that time when Clarke's mom had needed someone to watch her. She was the coolest person he'd met since his dad started dragging him to the club. He was snapped away from his train of thought when the two of them almost crashed into a pretty red haired girl who was also walking around the fountain.

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, and he was preparing to apologize too, when he saw her face and froze. She had bright green eyes and pretty pink lips and freckles and her hair was curly and suddenly he was very, very aware that he'd never kissed a girl before.

"No, it's my fault," Clarke squeaked. "Kyle just said that he was learning about flower stuff, like, in poems and things like that in school last week, and I was asking him what different flowers meant."

The girl looked at him and blushed. "Really?"

That was absolutely untrue. Kyle Wick didn't know anything about flowers. At all. And he was really worried that he was being set up for embarrassment by a five year old, when she answered for him.

"Yeah! I was asking him about, whatcha call em, daffodils? The pretty yellow ones that look like sunshine? 'Cause they're my favorites, and he was telling me about how they mean beauty and happiness and stuff," she said, smiling. "Oh, my gosh, I love your dress! Do you like daffodils, too?"

He looked down at her dress, which was covered in yellow flowers, which, he was realizing, were probably daffodils, and he saw the way the girl was looking from her dress to him and smiling, and he realized what Clarke was doing.

"Uh, yeah. They're my favorites, too," she said, shyly, smiling at Wick from underneath her bangs. "I'm Katie."

"I'm Wick."

"She just called you Kyle."

"Yeah, but I'm Wick."

"Okay."

Clarke was tugging at his sleeve, and he glanced down at her. "Kyle, is it okay if I go get some water?"

He glanced back up at Katie, grinning. "Yeah."

She came back ten minutes later to find him lip-locked with Katie. She just sat on the edge of the fountain, waiting for them to finish up. When they did, the redhead scribbled her phone number onto his hand, and he saw Clarke sitting there with a self satisfied smirk.

"You," he said, pointing at her, "are the best wingman ever."

"You're welcome," she said with a broad, toothy smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've got quite a few of these planned, just to explore different dynamics that can't really be fully fleshed out in the main storyline! other things that will be included here are a look into clarke and raven's romantic relationship, a day in the life of the crew, and some things looking more closely at individual relationships and whatnot that i can't fit into the main story!!


	2. Juvenile Delinquents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Wick start trouble at the country club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so, so fun to write.

It all started when Clarke watched Big Fat Liar. She snuck a bottle of blue food dye into her pocket before leaving the house, and when the pool was closed, she had him keep watch while she snuck into the gated area and emptied the bottle into the water. Later, when swimmers came out of the water and their skin was tinged with blue, the two of them had to run and hide so that no one saw them laughing.

After that, pranking became their hobby. They tried to pull a new one every week, and had a little competition going to see who could come up with the best one.

It took him awhile to top the pool prank, but he managed it. He stole a bunch of bouillon cubes from the kitchen, and had her stand watch while he went into the showers and unscrewed the shower heads, sticking a piece of the cube into each one of them. Everyone who took a shower that weekend smelled like soup for days.

She beat that one a few months later by suggesting that they sneak hardboiled eggs into the air supply for the sauna.

For about two months after that one, they just ran around hiding pictures of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson and Terry Crews all over the place. They made very sure to tape them to the flyers that were placed sporadically around the club urging people to be watchful for the prankster(s) so that they could be brought to justice.

People probably would have suspected Wick were it not for the fact that he was constantly accompanied by a cherubic little blonde five year old with doe eyes who simply did not look like she was capable of causing trouble.

Security had asked him, once, if he knew anything about the practical jokes, and she had yelled at them, outraged on his behalf.

"He's my friend, you big meanies!" She stamped a tiny foot and stuck her chin out in defiance. "None of my friends would ever do something bad like that! How dare you!"

The guards started mumbling apologies, trying to escape her wrath.

"We didn't mean to -"

"Yeah, well, you did! If I stepped on someones foot and I didn't mean to do it, I still need to apologize!" She was pointing in their faces, and Wick was fighting so hard not to laugh, because no only was she lying through her teeth, but the two men looked absolutely horrified with themselves. Two fully grown men hanging their heads in shame while being lectured by a five year old was a sight that Wick would never forget.

"We're very sorry, young man."

"It's okay," he said as she grabbed his hand and stormed away. Once they were in the gardens, the two of them stopped and stared at each other, before falling down laughing.

After that, they didn't pull pranks quite as often. It just felt too easy. Pranking was no fun when there was no danger of getting caught, and they were beyond suspicion. All the sport was gone.

Although, every once in awhile, people still found pictures of Dwayne Johnson hidden around. If you asked Clarke and Wick, though, they didn't consider that pranking. They called it "enriching lives".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is an evil genius and no one will convince me otherwise. Also, if any five year old could successfully lecture two adult security guards, it would be her.


	3. But Mom!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jasper calls Clarke "Mom". She's given up on trying to get him to stop.
> 
> Or, Team Clarke becomes a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> group dynamics are fun and cute and I love writing about Clarke, Raven, Jasper, and Monty coming together to form a cohesive unit.
> 
> mostly fluff and some angst that is resolved in a fluffy manner

"Are you _serious_? You just went on a mission to the area of New Zealand where they filmed Lord of the Rings, and you didn't bring me _anything_?"

"What was I supposed to get you, a rock?"

"Yes!"

Clarke sighed, running a hand through her hair. She didn't know why she was surprised, really. This _was_ Jasper, and this was not the most ridiculous fit he'd thrown since joining the team.

"How am I supposed to know to get you a rock?"

He was looking at her like she kicked his puppy. "You should just know these things! Lord of the Rings is only one of my favorite movie franchises of all time."

"He has twelve favorite movie franchises, Clarke. Not a big deal if you don't know them all," Monty cut in.

"Twel - Wait, no. No, we're not talking about that," Clarke said, not wanting to get sidetracked. "Jasper, there's absolutely no reason why I should have to bring you souvenirs from my missions."

"But _Mom_!"

That spiraled into a half hour argument between Clarke and Jasper about him calling her "mom". Monty and Raven watched from the sidelines, Raven occasionally pitching in whenever she thought it would be funny, Monty just trying not to laugh. If you asked Clarke, it was a draw, but anyone else would tell you that Jasper won. That was when he officially started calling her "mom," and when Clarke started bringing him souvenirs from every mission.

 

" _Mom_! Raven stole the piece of obsidian you brought back with you from Maui!"

Clarke sighed. "I'm still not your mother, Jasper."

"Now is not the time to talk about this. You're the mom. Make her give it back."

"Raven, did you take Jasper's obsidian?"

"Nope!"

"How do you know you haven't just misplaced it, Jasper?"

He crossed his arms, pouting. "I have not misplaced it. I never misplace any of the souvenirs you bring me. You know this! You know it! And you know that Raven steals them sometimes!"

"Why are you so worried about a piece of rock?"

"Because, Raven! I never get to go out there with her! I never get to do anything cool. I'm just stuck here with you and Monty doing random, not dangerous, _barely_ cool super spy stuff. This way, I get a part of the adventure."

"Raven, give Jasper the rock," Clarke said, heaving a long sigh.

Raven groaned, muttering something about "weak" and "tattle tale", and pulled it out of her pocket, dropping it into Jasper's palm. 

He grabbed Clarke in one of his signature, too-tight, uncomfortable hugs. "Thanks, Mom!"

"You're welcome, Jas." She ruffled his hair, and he ran to put his souvenir away.

 

"Clarke! Jasper is cheating!"

Raven and Jasper's bickering was completely out of hand. It was one thing when it was productive, the two of them making alterations to each other's tech, or plans, or systems. That just meant that her tech was as good as it could be. But this? They were playing Battleship. Battleship! They should be able to make it through a game of Battleship without having to call for Clarke's intervention. But they couldn't.

"Jasper, is this true?"

"No."

She arched a brow. "Let me see your game board."

"I shouldn't have to show you."

"Jasper."

He sighed and turned to show her his board. He'd only placed three of his ships in the playing field.

"No dessert for a week."

"But Mom!"

"Should I make it a month?"

"...No."

 

They had a small, fake Christmas tree on the table in the room they were assigned to use for mission control. Jasper and Raven insisted on it, which made Clarke cave instantly, because, well, the two of them never agreed on anything. Any camaraderie between them should be encouraged, wether Clarke liked it or not.

Clarke wasn't really into Christmas anymore. When she was younger, she'd run around singing Christmas carols, buy everyone presents, decorate wherever she went. It annoyed the hell out of Wick, but she was one of his favorite people on the planet, so he could tolerate a month and a half of her awful singing and goofy smile and the mistletoe she carried around with her so she could give him annoying smacks on the cheek when pretty girls walked by. Her mother spent the holiday season hanging back, watching her husband and their daughter play and laugh and love life. She could never say she really understood their enthusiasm, but she could never bring herself to complain, because their happiness was downright infectious.

But since Jake Griffin's death, Clarke had begun more or less completely shutting down around the holidays. She hated Christmas trees, she hated decorations and carols and the colors red and green side by side, she hated mistletoe, she hated it all. She wouldn't go anywhere, wouldn't speak to people, she just went on missions and came back, generally with a lot more scrapes and bruises than usual. The first year, she came back with a broken wrist. No one could prove anything, but it looked like maybe it was self inflicted, like from punching a wall. Kane, Wick, and her mother had all tried to get a straight answer out of her, but it wasn't going to happen. The second, she got into a nasty fight with the security team that was protecting her target. A black eye, a fat lip, six stitches over her right eye, and four broken ribs. They couldn't be sure, but from the security footage, it looked like she'd let them catch her on purpose. Everyone tried to help, to cheer her up, but they couldn't.

They were dreading year three. Abby called Marcus constantly. She didn't know much about ARK. Anything, really. Didn't even know the agency's name, actually, and especially didn't know what they did. Not her husband, not Kane, not Clarke. She just knew that sometimes, they came back hurt. She spent the last half of November and all of December talking to Kane all the time, begging, pleading for him to do everything he could to keep her daughter safe. He always told her that he would do his best. Neither of them were sure if that would be enough. Wick texted her every day, checking in. He would have sold his soul to bring back the annoying, goofy, happy, Christmas-loving girl he remembered, but he knew that if anything would bring her back, it wouldn't be him. If he could have done something to help, he would have already done it.

Clarke tried to hide her disdain for the holiday season from her team, didn't want to taint it for them, but they all noticed. They saw the dark look in her eyes when she looked at the Christmas tree, noticed that she was sad, quieter, more somber than usual. They'd all asked her what was wrong, Jasper even asked if she wanted them to take the tree down, but she wouldn't say anything, told them to leave the tree. As the month progressed, presents started showing up. The ones from Monty were all neatly wrapped in plain, silver paper. Raven put them in colorful gift bags with tissue paper - messy, but cute - and Jasper's were... Distinct. Messily wrapped in colorful paper, tied together with ribbon where the paper would have gaped open due to his lack of wrapping skills.

By the day after Christmas, when they planned to celebrate, there was one more type of gift. Four identical boxes wrapped in plain black paper. They were hidden underneath everything else, no one even realized they were there until all of the other presents had been opened. Jasper gave Raven a whoopie cushion (inside there was a gift card to Starbucks - unimaginative, but he "couldn't be _too_ thoughtful in regards to a gift for his 'arch nemesis'"), Monty a gigantic bag of candy, and two of those ice cube trays that made funny shapes (one was mustaches, the other boobs), and Clarke a blue stuffed bear ("His name is Pinky," he informed her seriously) and a cheesy necklace that said "Mom" in fancy cursive writing. Raven got everyone fancy chocolates (even Jasper), and then she gave Jasper and Monty personalized dog tags (although, Jasper's said that his middle name was "Goober" - he wore it proudly nonetheless), and Clarke a pair of fuzzy socks and, embarrassingly enough, edible panties. Monty had made everyone a personalized mix CD, and then he'd ordered bags of gummi dicks (an incredibly unpleasant phrase) for both Raven and Jasper, and some new colored pencils for Clarke. The four identical black boxes seemed to be from Kane, who got them all new iPods - unexpectedly generous, but no one was complaining.

Throughout all of this, Clarke had been relatively stoic. She smiled at all the appropriate moments, made all the right jokes, and she would have been a perfect picture of someone enjoying their Christmas celebration, were it not for the sadness in her eyes.

Jasper was the first one to comment. "Clarke? Will you please tell us what's up?"

She sighed, staring at her hands, where they were tangled in her lap. "My dad... Christmas was a big thing with him. Christmas always meant love, and family, and togetherness. Without him, without that, it just... It doesn't feel right."

"I know we're not your dad, and we'll never be able to replace him," Jasper started, softly. "But don't we have those things here? I mean, we're together, and we love each other - well, except for me and Raven, we're sworn enemies, but that is neither here nor there - and I think of us as a family. Is there a chance that maybe... Maybe you could like Christmas again? I know it won't ever be the same as it was, I do, but is there a chance it could be good?"

She didn't say anything. Her shoulders shook, her eyes trained on her lap. When she looked up, her eyes were filled with tears. That was the first time any of them had seen her cry.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to make it worse. I'm sorry, we'll never do Christmas again, oh Jesus, I'm going to ground myself for the next month. Year! I'm grounded for a year. God, I am so sorry, I -"

She cut him off. "God, will you just shut up?" She pulled him into a tight hug, tears falling onto the shoulder of his t-shirt. "We are family, Jas. We are. Thank you so much for reminding me."

He just held her until she stopped crying. "Love you, Mom."

She pulled away, chuckling softly, and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

"I uh, did get you guys presents. Well, I made them, but, y'know, they're still presents." She reached behind the little tree and grabbed three small parcels, wrapped in plain brown paper, marked with the letters M, J, and R. She handed them each to their intended recipient. They each held a small pendant, made of metal, one side of which had been molded into a design that reflected the person it was made for. Raven's was inspired by explosions, Jasper's by chemicals, and Monty's by nature and serenity. Jasper and Monty's were both attached to simple leather bracelets, Raven's was dangling on a long, thin chain - a necklace. She pulled a similar chain out from under her shirt. Hers was designed to look like a paintbrush, streaking across the metal.

"Mom made us family necklaces!"

 

Three months later, she was sitting at the bar.

"Clarke, why are you wearing a necklace that says 'Mom'?"

She groaned. "Long story, Wick. Very long. I'll tell you, someday, but not today."

 

She didn't object anymore, when Jasper called her Mom. Yeah, it was kind of weird. Okay, really weird. Really, _really_ weird. But she was used to it, even kind of liked it, sometimes. She wasn't a real mom, in the traditional sense, but she was kind of the matriarch of her own little family. A unit of people who had come together and now cared about each other, loved each other, were there for each other, no matter what. So, yeah, it was definitely strange, but in a comforting way.

 

Clarke and Octavia were hanging out at her and Raven's place. Raven was out for the day - there was some new tech or whatever that she was eager to toy with. They were watching Legally Blonde (showing some love for the classics, as Octavia called it) when the door flew open.

"Moooooom! We're home!"

Clarke, on autopilot, responded, like she always did. "Hey, honey, how was school?" She immediately cringed, remembering her company. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i went into this with the full intention of keeping it 100% light and fluffy and silly but then it didn't work out like that. i wanted a reason for Clarke to embrace the nickname, and, well, that got kind of out of hand.
> 
> "kind of" meaning "definitely, on a very significant scale"
> 
> i'm sorry-ish


End file.
